


Blood

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: LAOFT Extras [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, briefly mentioned past relationship abuse, confronting abusers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 03:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18930064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: “The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.” - English ProverbLove and Other FairytalesVerse





	Blood

Logan was very glad Virgil had no desire to lord over the full moon revels the way his brother had. Logan enjoyed sitting with him, and he was certain he would not have been comfortable doing so if Virgil was the focal point of the event.

Rather, Virgil seemed to  _actively discourage_  attention payed to him – whether the attention was deference or scorn didn’t seem to make a difference. He sat far from the crowd and the fire, on the very edge of the clearing, happy to speak to Logan, Roman, Patton, and absolutely no one else.

He occasionally tolerated White, but only if she was fairly quiet.

Roman and Patton were several steps away, spinning each other in dizzying circles. They couldn’t dance with anyone else – which made Logan twitch slightly with poorly controlled jealousy - but they were happy enough with each other as partners.

Roman tucked his face into Patton’s neck and blew a raspberry, barely audible from this distance. Patton giggled, bright and musical, and Logan probably had a truly embarrassing expression on his face.

“I know, right?” said Virgil, sounding both put out and hopelessly adoring, “It’s like they’re made of starlight,”

Logan turned his fond expression onto Virgil, pale in comparison and no less lovely for it.

“That is an apt description,” he said.

Virgil squeezed Logan’s hand, which he held in his lap. Feeling uncharacteristically playful, Logan wiggled his fingers, and Virgil huffed a barely-audible laugh.

“Your Seelie is showing,” said Virgil, amused, and Logan glanced down and saw that there were, in fact, about a half-dozen gardenias sprouting from the area around his feet, as well as a small but steadily growing bush of what he presumed was white lilac.

“So it is,” he said softly.

Virgil kissed him – and then smiled even wider into it as the gardenia began creeping up his leg. Logan tried to keep his face neutral, but his blush must certainly have been giving him away.

Virgil leaned away again, reaching for his cup and going to drink. He frowned, looking into it, and then set it down without drinking.

“Do you need more to drink?”

Virgil shook his head.

“Don’t feel like being swarmed,” he muttered.

Logan lightly rolled his eyes.

“I am used to ignoring them,” he said reasonably, “I will return momentarily,”

Virgil’s mouth just barely turned down.

“No pouting,” Logan muttered, a repeat of a directive usually uttered by Roman, kissing Virgil lightly and making his way across the clearing towards where the food was kept.

He’d meant it – he really was used to ignoring the other fae. However he had noticed that, in the past two months since Virgil’s return, the other fae seemed equally likely to ignore  _him_.

It made sense he supposed – he was clearly romantically involved with Virgil. It even made sense that the Seelie seemed less inclined to avoid him, seeing as they had done little to him other than not defend him. Which, to be fair, he had not defended  _them_  either, so he could not really blame them for it.

But even that seemed like an… inadequate explanation for the way Unseelie bolted from his presence like they were being chased by church grims.

And the most glaring absence – he had not seen more than a cursory glance of Eirwen in weeks.

But regardless, he retrieved Virgil’s wine with little interaction other than timid waves (Seelie) and panicked eye contact (Unseelie) and returned, resolving to bring it up to Virgil.

Patton and Roman had returned to their places (which in Patton’s case was on Virgil’s lap, and in Roman’s was right next Virgil with his foot hooked around Virgil’s ankle). Patton reached out as soon as he caught sight of Logan, grabbing.

“This is Virgil’s,” said Logan.

“Not the wine, silly, your hand,” giggled Patton.

Logan felt his ears flush, and he passed the cup to Virgil’s free hand before taking Patton’s.

Patton didn’t hold it though, instead bringing it up to his mouth and kissing Logan’s palm with a dazzling smile.

Logan felt like his brain short-circuited, and by the time he’d regained some semblance of rationality he’d already kneeled beside Virgil and was kissing Patton breathless.

Logan had the vague sense he’d been about to do something important, but he found himself rather preoccupied.

* * *

Logan’s lessons in magic had a tendency to go anywhere from reasonably well to very poorly.

Well. For a given definition of “poorly.”

Virgil was… distracting, was probably the most accurate term, even when he was doing nothing in particular.

But when he did magic, the air smelled like ozone and blizzard, spark and shadow twisting around them, and Logan was just as likely to be possessed by impulse and kiss him rather than actually pay attention to what Virgil was trying to tell him.

It didn’t help that Virgil could only communicate the most abstract concepts of magic to Logan in the first place – their magic drew from fundamentally different sources.

Virgil would mention shadow, and Logan would struggle to execute the same intention until his hand accidentally passed through a shaft of sunlight.

Virgil would touch the ground and frost would spread from his fingertips; when Logan laid a hand over Virgil’s in response, snowdrops blossomed in between the gaps of their fingers.

And on occasion, when Logan  _did_  do something correctly, Virgil himself would end up distracted, muttering through feverish kisses about sunlight and spring rain and snowmelt in a way that was anything but disparaging.

Logan never thought he’d be able to hear that nickname and respond, not with distress but unbearable fondness.

What was he saying?

Right – distracting.

Virgil laid one soothingly cool hand on the side of Logan’s neck, and Logan tried to compose himself, pushing gently on Virgil’s shoulder.

Virgil retreated, looking distinctly sheepish.

“Sorry,” he said, with one more parting peck.

“You were hardly the sole participant,” said Logan, abashed.

Virgil looked amused.

Logan tried to smile back, but after glancing around them, there was a small but noticeably distressing pit forming in the pit of his stomach.

“What’s wrong?” said Virgil.

Logan tried to think of a way to phrase it. There was a chance he could hurt Virgil’s feelings.

“I do not understand why I am progressing so… inconsistently,” said Logan, “Even accounting for our tendency to… deviate from the actual lesson, and that I can now do a number of things on command, I have not gained any noticeable proficiency in controlling the unintentional magic at all,”

Logan gestured to the veritable garden that had bloomed around them.

Virgil frown, plucking one of the – sweet pea, Logan believed, - from the ground. It died, but it didn’t wilt, turning crisp and dry but still vibrant, like it had been pressed.

“That I  _can_  tell you,” said Virgil, “It’s because these  _are_  you,”

“They are flowers,” said Logan dubiously.

“Yeah but they come straight from the part of you that’s… you,” Virgil scrunched up his face, unsure, “I don’t know how to explain it. They come from the same place your name does,”

“My name?” said Logan incredulously.

“Your true name,” said Virgil, “Not just Logan,”

“My full name is Logan Elijah Sanders,” said Logan.

Virgil twitched, a faint note of awe and a not-insignificant amount of exasperation in his expression.

“You really  _were_  raised by humans,” he laughed. “Logan Elijah Sanders,”

But then there was a pause and Virgil frowned a little, shaking his head.

“No, that’s not it,” he said, “You would have reacted,”

“I assure you I am aware of my own name,” said Logan dryly.

“You might be missing part of it. Mine’s pretty long,”

Logan hummed.

“The foundation is the name your mother gave you, when you were born, and then it builds on that as you get older,”

Logan suddenly felt incredibly nauseous.

“I see,” he said quietly. “I understand the issue,”

Virgil’s frown deepened, and he squeezed Logan’s hand. Logan resisted the urge to shake it off petulantly, because the situation was obviously not Virgil’s fault.

“Leith,” he said, clipped and short-tempered.

Virgil cocked his head.

“’Flowing water,’” he said, “Makes sense. Pretty random, though,”

Logan did not elaborate.

“Leith,” said Virgil.

But nothing happened.

Logan relaxed automatically.

“Why did you think that was it?” said Virgil incredulously.

Logan shifted, embarrassed.

“It was what Eirwen called me, the first time I met her,” he said, “You said when I was born, I- made an assumption,”

Virgil shook his head.

“Definitely not that then,” said Virgil, “Bruderspinne’s part of mine, bloods not important in names,”

His frowned deepened.

“You know… I would, if-”

“I do not want you to,” said Logan, “And you do not really want to, either. You know why,”

Virgil nodded.

Roman insisted he didn’t care, that Eirwen was unbearable and hurt Logan, and that he didn’t want them to ignore her misdeeds because of him.

But they had all been there, the first time Virgil had offered to kill her for Logan. They had all seen the way Roman had paled at the words, the way his pupils had constricted and his smile had turned too perfect, too practiced, placid and flippant.

Roman had seen enough death, people he cared about enact enough murder – Logan would not add to it, and he wouldn’t ask Virgil to either, no matter how much he hated Eirwen.

Logan shook his head, shrugging helplessly.

“Well, if it is not that, then in that case, I have little other ideas,”

“Well, what else do people call you? If it’s not just the name your mother gave you,”

Logan started sifting through it in his mind. Specs was possible, but Roman used other nicknames as well, It may not be consistent enough. And he’d seen his birth certificate (Dr. Sherwood had been accommodating in what was essentially a very illegal act of fraud regarding the paper trail of Logan’s existence) so the name his mother gave him was definitely-

Logan laughed, short and stunned.

“What?”

“I know it,” said Logan, “Unfortunately,”

Virgil quirked an eyebrow.

“I was missing part of it,” he said, a little exasperated, “‘Berry,’”

Virgil was clearly trying not to laugh.

“Shut up,” said Logan, “‘Brother Spider’ is hardly less embarrassing,”

“Loganberry,” said Virgil, like he was testing it in his mouth. Logan twitched slightly.

“Loganberry Elijah Sanders,”

Spots exploded in Logan’s vision, like every nerve in his body lit up at once, his mind whiting out entirely, and when he came to who-knows-how-long later he was in Virgil’s lap, shaking, with Virgil humming softly and rocking them.

“Sorry,” said Virgil, his voice strained, “I didn’t- I didn’t think you had- I thought you just  _told_  me I didn’t realize-”

“Realize what?” said Logan, sounding rather like he’d been punched in the stomach.

“You gave it to me,” said Virgil weakly. “I didn’t- Fuck,”

Virgil kissed him, then, soft and firm and somehow grounding in spite of the fact that he was shaking nearly as much as Logan was.

“Regardless,” said Logan, trying to steady himself, “It is… comforting. To know it. I appreciate your assistance,”

“Useful, sure,” said Virgil, “But why comforting?”

Logan glanced away, sheepish.

“It has nothing of Eirwen in it,” said Logan. “A… confirmation, I suppose, of what I…  _felt_  but was not… sure of,”

“Look at you, using ‘I feel,’ statements,” said Virgil, amused, “I’ll have to tell Patton, he’ll be so proud,”

“Have I ever informed you that you are, to quote Roman, a little bit of an ass?”

“You might have mentioned it once or twice,” Virgil said, clearly trying to contain his laughter.

Logan was not quite shaking anymore, though he still felt unsteady. Virgil pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Well, now you know,” he said softly, “Who you are,”

“I do,” said Logan.

He may have been imagining it, but Logan could have sworn somewhere, deep in the core of him, something  _clicked_  into place.

* * *

Roman and Logan’s date – which had merely consisted of a few hours of swimming followed by ice cream – had gone exceedingly well, in Logan’s opinion.

Granted, the metric for a date going well had become not being accosted by underclassmen or middle schoolers, who had eschewed their parents distaste for Logan and his significant others (positive) in exchange for a probably-ill-advised amount of hero worship (negative – very negative).

Now Logan was at Roman’s house. Roman had invited him, and Logan had difficulty declining such invitations.

Additionally, he was putting off returning to his own home in the vain hopes that he could prevent Thomas from waylaying him the moment he walked in the door. Logan was very bad at “gushing,” and Thomas was always curious. Logan was going to take a certain amount of satisfaction in returning the affectionate harassment when Thomas acquired his own significant other, but until then he was rather limited in regards to potential retaliation.

Logan removed his shoes at the door, calmly following Roman into the kitchen, where Ms. Gage – having impeccable timing as usual - had three bowls of bean soup laid on the table.

Logan reached for the closest one, and Ms. Gage swatted his hand lightly. Logan retreated, startled.

“That one,” she said gruffly, pointing to another bowl, “No salt,”

“Oh. Thank you,” he said, moving toward the other bowl. Salt in his food was not quite enough to cause him real harm, but it did make eating a rather unpleasant chore – he preferred to avoid it whenever possible.

Ms. Gage sat at the table with her own soup, and Roman and Logan followed. The meal passed mostly in silence.

“Is Patton takin’ the goats to the fair this year?” said Ms. Gage conversationally, “Don’t see how he’ll manage that from where he is,”

“He might not need lessons anymore by then,” said Roman, though he didn’t sound very confident himself. Patton was tight-lipped about his own lessons, and pressing him made him uncomfortable, so both Logan and Roman were mostly in the dark.

“Well, I can’t take the chickens myself, and I know  _you’d_  rather chew boot leather,” said Ms. Gage. “What about you, Logan?”

Logan paused.

“What…what about me?”

Ms. Gage rolled her eyes.

“Do ya maybe wanna help an old lady corral her chickens,” she said dryly.

Logan’s brow pinched, confused.

“Ms. Gage, I am incapable of going to the county fair. You know this…?”

Ms. Gage’s eyebrows went up.

“Y'all ain’t got that put to rights?” she said.

Roman went rigid next to Logan, and Logan kept his voice carefully neutral.

“Virgil is incapable of undoing Eirwen’s curse. It is bound in blood,”

His lips wrinkled in distaste.

“However unfortunate said blood is,” he muttered irritably.

Ms. Gage hummed absently. She continued to watch him, considering.

“…Mamaw?” said Roman.

Ms. Gage gave a wry smile.

“Funny thing about blood,” she said, “It goes both ways,”

* * *

The next revel came, and Logan had been turning Ms. Gage’s statement over and over in his mind.

But she could only give him a witch’s perspective – some things were similar, others were entirely different. Virgil’s mother was incorporeal and so ancient that Virgil said she on occasion seemed to forget he existed, and  _she_  was actually fond of him. Virgil and his brother had not shared enough blood to influence each other the way Eirwen did Logan. Virgil was nearly just as much in the dark as Logan was.

But it was good that she had mentioned it – otherwise, Logan might have been even more confused by what happened the closer he walked to the revel.

“Do you see that?” he said curiously.

“See what?” said Roman, who had been touching the bark of the more bizarre trees in a truly spectacular showing of foolishness. Logan tugged the hand he held, pulling Roman away from the tree. He ignored Roman’s noise of protest.

“That… thing,” he said ineloquently.

“Wow, it’s like you’re painting a picture with your words,” said Roman dryly.

Logan was normally very precise, so the fact that words  _were_ escaping him at the moment was incredibly frustrating.

It resembled… string, maybe. Logan got the sense it was some kind of- knot, or tangle. But it didn’t have physical or visual component. It was simply a… sense in the air. It did have  _direction_ , however, headed straight for the revel.

“Logan?”

Logan startled, turning back to Roman, who’s brow had furrowed in consternation. He got the sense Roman had been trying to get his attention for some time.

“Apologies,” he said.

Roman glanced at the general direction Logan had been looking, but he clearly didn’t see anything.

It didn’t dissipate, even as they arrived and met Patton and Virgil. Logan found himself distracted by it, especially now that it seemed to be moving back and forth.

“L?” said Virgil.

Logan startled. Roman passed the backs of his fingers over the side of Logan’s neck, soothing, and Logan relaxed.

“That thing again?” said Roman, “Do you want to go look for it?”

Logan hesitated.

“I have a… theory,” he said quietly.

“… is that a yes…?”

“… would you be willing to come with me?” Logan said quietly.

Roman scoffed, but his expression was soft and fond.

“I figured that was a given, Mr. Immaculate Perception,” he said quietly.

Logan was dreading following the knot. He was almost certain he knew was was on the other end of it.

The closer he got the clearer it looked – and it did look now, becoming more and more visual – and the more frayed it became. It was knotted with tension and tattered, like it had been scraped with razors.

Fae moved out of the way as Logan led the others through across the clearing, following the strange image. Patton moved in close, warm against Logan’s back.

The last of the fae parted, and Logan’s theory was confirmed.

Eirwen had her back to them, and she didn’t turn. One of her hands was held low, holding a cup, and Logan could smell elderberries in a cloud around her even from several feet away. Patton put his arms fully around Logan’s waist, squeezing.

“Are you here to kill me, Raindrop?” she said conversationally. She swayed lightly, but her voice was steady.

Logan didn’t respond, instead looking at the knot.

It was ragged, torn and shabby. It looked like it had once been much thicker, but it was so frayed that now it was barely a single thread.

“Well? Are you?” she prompted. She turned then, looking at him. They looked nothing alike.

Logan watched her, and the usual sense of dread and clawing hatred was there, familiar, but muted. Numb like a healing wound.

Logan looked at Eirwen, and he thought of Mom. He wondered what she would say, if she had a chance to talk to her. He wondered if Mom would thank her. He wondered what she would say, now, if she heard that Eirwen had assumed Logan was here to kill her.

“No,” he said finally, “No, Eirwen, I am not,”

And then Logan reached out towards the knot, plucked it like a bowstring, and cut it completely.

Logan felt nothing, but Eirwen paled. She sat heavily on the log, like her knees had given out under her.

Logan turned away from her without hesitating. Patton and Roman looked incredibly confused, but Virgil was smiling, proud and maybe a touch vindictive.

“I think,” said Logan, “That I  _would_  like to go to the county fair,”

* * *

Months later, Logan was regretting his decision.

“ _Patton_ , if you do not stop  _jostling_  this contraption, I swear I will-”

“Oh, it’s okay, Logan, just turn around! Virgil and Roman are behind us, you should see Virgil’s face,”

“I most certainly will  _not_ ,”

“Chicken,” said Patton fondly, and then he leaned over and kissed Logan while the bright spots of carnival color shone in a halo around his head.

Logan did not enjoy the Ferris wheel, but this part- well.

This part was exceedingly pleasant.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [ tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors ](%E2%80%9Dtulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) over on tumblr and i do take prompts in this verse so like... [eyes emoji]


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